


Twisted Every Way

by kestra_troi



Series: This Is What Happens When You Dont Sleep Series [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Barebacking, Boypussy, Canon What Canon, Drabble, Incest Kink, Indirect Incest, Lies, M/M, Manipulative Stiles Stilinski, Not Canon Compliant, OOC Everybody, Pregnancy Kink, Secret Relationship, Shameless Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2607311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kestra_troi/pseuds/kestra_troi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a messed-up kid. He does reckless things and doesnt apologize. In fact he rather likes it. And he likes Peter. So they smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Every Way

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a lyric in the Phantom of the Opera.

Stiles knows he should use protection, that he should insist his sex partners who have dicks to wrap it up every time, after all ‘no glove, no love.’ He knows it’s reckless to go bare, but he likes it. He gets off on it being dirty and unacceptable. He likes not living up to the squeaky-clean image a Sheriff’s son should have. Which is probably why he’s going out with a man twice his age, that he met online on a dating site where he said he was eighteen. Despite the good upbringing a happy-ish household he grew up in, or maybe because of it, Stiles likes the lying. He likes the danger in it, the messiness of it. It keeps him on his toes and fills him with a sick thrill. One different yet akin to the one he gets when his secret boyfriend Peter is shooting his load deep inside his pussy. Its twisted but the idea that he could get knocked up at sixteen makes him shudder as he cums. Its evil but the idea of getting Peter in trouble for statutory rape makes him clench harder around Peter’s dick. He almost wants his dad to find out just to see the look on Peter’s face as he’s being led away in cuffs. Its wrong but he likes the feeling of jizz slowly leaking out of him staining his thighs and his clothes, telltale signs of his debauchery. He wants his dad to find out, wants him to ask where Stiles goes late at night since its obvious he really isn’t going over to Scott’s. He wants his dad to get that worried look in his eyes that’s always followed up by guilt for not being around more. Stiles wants to punish him. As much as he loves his dad he wants to ruin himself to spite his decent, honest father. He wants his dad to look at him and see the real him: the damaged, angry, hungry Stiles that craves the chance to break the law, to defile his body, and decimate the quiet sleepy town that is Beacon Hills. He wants everyone to burn…

And then the morning comes bounding through the windows in Peter’s upscale, downtown apartment. The light wakes Stiles up and he reaches down to scratch at his itchy thighs when he bolts straight up remembering that he forgot to take his birth control pill the day before. Peter stirs beside him, but Stiles is off inside his own head trying to remember when the last time he took those damn pills definitively was. Peter grumbles and as if on cue Stiles lays back down curling up against his bed-warm boyfriend. Peter throws an arm around Stiles keeping him in place as he blearily slides on top of his secretly underaged boyfriend and shoves his morning wood where his dick belongs. Stiles goes with it, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck giving inviting thrusts to get Peter going. He likes this Peter, the one who’s all instinct and taking, not caring if Stiles cums or not. He likes this Peter who’s hair is mussed and his eyes sealed shut with sleep. This is the Peter Stiles wants to take home with him. This is the Peter he wants to have a baby with. This is the Peter take ruined him for all other men. With a small grunt Peter cums hot inside Stiles’ pussy and Stiles somehow manages to get off too before Peter slips out of him and pushes off the bed wobbling towards the master bath on sleep weak legs. Stiles likes the impersonality of it all, the coldness of Peter taking and then leaving to care for himself. It reminds him of his father in ways that should make Stiles grossed out, but don’t because we all end up marrying our parents, right? Frankly of the two Stiles would prefer tying the knot with someone like his father, rather than someone like his mother. He doesn’t want more death and sickness in his life. He wants impulse, he wants lies, he wants confrontation, he wants laughter, he wants sex, he wants children, he wants money, he wants…he wants everything. And he’s pretty sure Peter could be the man to give him everything.

The shower kicks on and Stiles gets up from Peter’s king-sized, satin sheet-covered bed. He totters his way to the kitchen as usual naked like always and goes about making coffee. He noshes on some pastries Peter has hidden away while he waits for the elixir of the gods to finish brewing. He grins expectantly as he hears the shower shut off and the coffee machine whir to a close. He grabs two cups and starts pouring. Seconds pass. Peter staggers out still wet from his shower and grabs Stiles into a naked bear hug. 

“I’ve been looking for you.” Peter mumbles, his hard cock poking Stiles in the leg. Purring contentedly Stiles grinds back against Peter’s crotch. 

“I’ve been waiting for _you_ .” Stiles coos back bending over the counter. Peter hums in appreciation as he wastes no time shoving his duck back inside Stiles. This time Peter’s hands are all over Stiles pushing and prodding him towards more orgasms too. Stiles has always marveled at Peter’s stamina; no matter how many times Peter fucks him in the night he always wants more in the morning, and Stiles can’t help but wonder if his dad would be the same. Would the good Sheriff always be up for multiple innings or would he be all about that once is enough life? Stiles wants to find out someday, but not before getting another load of Peter’s cum. Stiles figures the more cum he gets inside him the easier it’ll be for his dad to push _his_ dick in when the time comes. And it will come…Stiles will see to that… _is_ seeing to it.

Peter cums again. They drink their coffees. They nibble on whatever’s lying around. Peter idly reads the paper as Stiles scoops the dishes out of the way and climbs on top of the table right in front of Peter. He spreads his legs and offers up his pussy like it’s a meal. Peter tosses the newspaper onto an empty seat and descends flicking his tongue along the string of lovebites he left on Stiles’ thigh last night before licking up some few globs of his cum that are dribbling out of Stiles’ cunt. 

“Take a picture.” Stiles commands. Peter grabs the cell phone they keep on the counter for just such situations and snaps a photo of Stiles’ leaking pussy. Then he snaps a few others: like one where he dips his fingers in the sticky flow to show how much there is; one where he documents the lovebites all by themselves; or the one where he shows Stiles’ entire body face and all. 

Snatching the phone away from his clandestine boyfriend Stiles shimmies off the table and takes a good minute selecting which one to send. He gets Peter’s opinion and then passes the phone back saying, “Send that one. At noon, like usual.”

Peter nods, taking a second to memorize the exact photo before putting the phone on the table. “When will I get to see you again, baby?”

“When do you wanna see me?” Stiles slyly flips, scooting up to run his hands along Peter’s nude form.

“Tonight.” Peter eagerly replies swooping in, closing the distance between the two of them. “I want you in my bed, screaming my name, cumming around my cock.”

“Aw, shucks. I got plans tonight, baby.” Stiles lies. “I gotta visit my _other_ boyfriend and sex _him_ up for a change.”

“Oh how you tease me, baby.” Peter whispers stealing a kiss from his devious lover. They kiss until both their mouths are raw and puffy. Then Stiles breaks them apart to catch his breath and come up with an answer to Peter’s original question.

“How about next Tuesday?” Stiles offers. “I’ll be free next Tuesday.”

“A whole week?” Peter whines facetiously. “You can be so cruel to me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” Stiles taunts back. He lets Peter kiss him one last time. “So I’ll see you then. On Tuesday. You good on photos until then?”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ve got more than enough.”

“Good. Then I’ll meet you back here on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday.” Peter echoed snatching one last kiss. Stiles lets him have it because he knows Peter was serious about wanting to see him tonight and that he’s genuinely disappointed that he can’t. Peter is like that: insatiable, broken in his own ways, which is what makes him so perfect for Stiles.

Smacking Peter on the arm Stiles walks away to shower himself, find some clothes, and then head home before his dad gets to worrying. As he walks towards the door showered and dressed he stops to give Peter a peck on the cheek. “At noon. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t, baby, I promise. See you Tuesday.”

“See you Tuesday.” Stiles parrots as he steps outside Peter’s apartment for the first time all weekend. 

At noon on the dot the Sheriff gets a text from an unknown number, _that_ unknown number, the one that’s been sending him indecent, pornographic pictures for months now. He tells himself that he’s not going to look at this one, that he needs to stop viewing these obviously private photos once and for all. But its noon and the Sheriff’s dick seems to have an internal clock all its own because its getting hard in anticipation for what he knows will be another filthy picture, in a long line of filthy pictures that have become somehow more thrilling to him than the pornos he finds online. He’s in his office, he could get caught, but that just makes his cock throb harder as he flips his phone on, unzips his pants, and accesses his latest text: a picture of creamy thighs purple with lovebites and a finger coated in cum that is clearly leaking out of a puffy, well-fucked red pussy. Memories spring up of his youth, of him and Claudia, and the sexual shenanigans they used to get up to. This pussy, the one that’s always featured in the pictures, reminds him so much of his wife’s that its easy to relive the good old days to its utter completion. Pulling a Kleenex out of the box on his desk the Sheriff wipes off his hands and his dick. As he pushes his dick back inside his pants there’s a knock on his door. As quietly as he can he zips up. 

“Come in!” He calls as the door opens and in walks Stiles. The Sheriff closes his phone as normally as he can, not wanting to draw attention to the device filled with vice and sin. “Hey Stiles, how was your weekend with Scott?”

“Good.” Stiles lied with a simple shrug. “I went home first, but you weren’t there.”

Surreptitiously throwing away the waded up tissue in the bin beside his desk the Sheriff said, “Yeah Deputy Collins called in sick so I picked up her shift. Are you hungry? You wanna grab something to eat?”

“I would love to, Daddy-o. Absolutely love to.” Stiles agreed licking his lips. “I want something salty. Any ideas?”

“Curly fries, what else.” The Sheriff answered, completely missing or ignoring the way Stiles’ eyes flitted to the trash bin where his wadded up, cum-filled tissues always end up. _What else indeed, Daddy? What else indeed…_

**Author's Note:**

> I do not advocate unsafe sex. Use protection. Or make other arrangements to keep yourself safe, but either way BE SAFE.


End file.
